Perception
by bubblygoo
Summary: Kiyosato Akira attempts to woo the lady Tomoe, armed only with a bad haircut and a cynical sidekick.
1. Chapter 1

Thanks to Ishimaru Amon, who asked for a fic in which Tomoe prevents Akira from going to Kyoto and their future life. Hopefully, you will not be disappointed.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

"Perception"

"I'm thinking of asking her to marry me," Akira said suddenly.

And yet it was not so sudden. _She_ was all his master could talk of in his leisure, and frankly, En was growing sick of her. Tomoe, Tomoe, Tomoe. It only grew worse, as the days became shorter and the nights longer.

"That would be a good idea," En replied as he had rehearsed over and over. "Both of you are in the proper marrying range and close in status."

"True… But a marriage isn't only about signing paperwork and exchanging family names. I want to have—"

"Love, commitment, dedication," En chorused. "Yes Kiyosato-sama, and those things come with a disciplined samurai daughter. You mustn't worry. Haven't you and Yukishiro-sama been in close contact since you were children?"

Akira blushed. "Those qualities should come with a wife like a neatly wrapped package," he argued, "I have to be sure I've earned them."

En didn't add that Tomoe was far from the worthiest wives for his master, at least in his eyes. Akira was worrying over nothing. "And you have. You've spent a small fortune courting her, which is probably why we're having rice as our main course instead of fish."

Akira frowned. "Watch it there."

"Forgive me, I was blind. That grain of rice is clearly a fish scale."

With his status, En should have humbled himself. After all, he was only a servant to Akira, the second son of a retainer to the shogun. It might not have seemed like an impressive title, but it only made Akira's magnificence shine out greater amongst the his humble background. Indeed, Akira had gained himself a loyal servant, and was on his way of marriage to a woman who didn't deserve him, and yet he was trying so intently anyway. He spoke kindly to En, something he hadn't experienced ever since he was left alone. He was the second son in his family, and yet he was pleased with his status. Humble, kind, diligent, with just the right amount of fire made Akira who he was: a perfect man. Why Yukishiro-sama couldn't see that was beyond him.

But the relationship between him and Akira was different. They weren't just master and servant; they were friends, close friends. Akira taught En the meaning of friendship. He would almost go so far as to say that Akira taught him love, but if what Akira had for Tomoe was love, En was sorely mistaken.

So what did that leave? Friendship could hardly describe the dedication En felt for Akira. Deep affection, a burning loyalty, and affection… Brothers perhaps? He knew how Enishi acted whenever Akira and Tomoe were together.

Yes, brothers. It was natural for him to feel alienated towards Tomoe then, just as Enishi was toward Akira. It was natural for him to feel a stinging jealousy slash across his chest like a sword whenever he saw that look on his master's face directed toward Tomoe, natural to want to tell Akira that he loved him so much more than Tomoe did. Completely, utterly natural. Just like Enishi was.

Shaking his head, Akira stood up. "I'm going to have a bath now. Care to join me?"

"I'll decline. I still have chores to do."

"Suit yourself. Good night En."

"Good night Kiyosato-sama."

It always seemed weird to En to take a bath with someone, and he never got used to his master's presence while his was in the tub.

He wondered if Enishi took baths with Tomoe.

A few notes:

I'm sorry it's so short, but it seemed right to end the prologue there. The main point of this chapter was to introduce En, an original character. I never thought I'd make an original character, but seeing as how this is an AU and Kenshin and the gang won't play a major part (if they're mentioned at all), I need some supporting characters.

As this is my first OC, I tried not to make him a "Gary Stu". This is also my first time dealing with homosexuality in writing. However, this is not "shonen-ai" or "yaoi", because En isn't sure if he is in love with Akira (I think he is), and Akira has his eyes on Tomoe. I'll try not to center this fic on En, but he will play a major part. I already have my impressions of his character, and I'll let you, the reader, form your own.

Reviews are greatly appreciated, and I'll do my best to reply to them.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Chapter Two

I glanced at the mirror once more and smooth out nonexistent wrinkles in my hakama. I looked presentable. My hair was in its formal topknot, and my attire was of a black silk material with dark blue accent, in imitation of the night. Cool, collected, like the beauty I would marry.

Now if only my nerves would cooperate.

"Why are you so nervous, master?" asked En, in his bored, deep drone, a voice that made me wish my own were more mature and toned. He came in front of the mirror as well and gave my appearance his pleased approval. At least I managed to impress someone close to me tonight. "You know she'll accept."

Yes I do. And yet… "Remind me why that is again, will you?" My voice sounded as nervous as I felt and looked.

My servant sighed and gripped my shoulders. Recognizing this particular ritual of ours, I sat down, almost apologetic for putting En through the torture of dealing with a spineless me. Then I looked in the mirror and saw his amused grin. He rolled my muscles and loosened the knots caused by my stress. "We've been through this too many times. I'm surprised you haven't memorized what I'm about to say."

"_I'm_ surprised you haven't memorized what a hopeless moron I am."

"Oh, I have."

"That's comforting."

"It isn't to me."

I laughed. En merely shook his head, wearing that knowing half smile on his face. A moment of companionable silence passed as En finished massaging my shoulders. As he stood up, I half-heartedly sought his reassurance once more. "So, what's the plan for tonight again?"

He slid open the shoji and as he faced me to slide it closed, he replied, "If you don't know it by now, you really are hopeless."

(Tomoe)

He's going to propose to me tonight, I can feel it. I pulled on a kimono with a simple, floral design. I was never very involved in elaborate clothing designs, never in the financial situation to be. Never in the right state of mind or heart to be. Tonight, I wish I _could_ be, just tonight, just to show him that marrying him would mean something to me.

I looked for jewelry, and expected and found none. I asked one of my father's friend's wives for cosmetics, only to be told with admiration and a hint of resentfulness in her voice my complexion was perfect.

Perfect. Bah.

I needed something to speak for me, show for me, that I did, I did care that I would be his wife. I needed something to do it for me because I knew my heart would not.

(Akira)

I took her hand and walked us to our seats. We'd arrived with a spare few minutes before the play, a few minutes I hoped I could use as time for conversation. I also hoped I wouldn't fumble those few minutes as my fingers were fumbling the hairpin in my sleeve.

I probed my memory for En's advice about sparking a conversation. _"Only catch eye contact when _you_ mean to. Don't ever blush from something she says. Make _her_ blush. If you can't think of something to say, pretend to admire the sky, the scenery, or whatever is around you at the moment. Wait for something to come to you. And whatever happens, don't clear your throat in the middle of a silence. Did you hear me master? I said, do not clear your throat. Ever."_

"_W-why not?"_

"_That callous, crude, disgusting action not only alerts the female that you have a buildup of… mucus… in your throat, but also may be mistaken as a sign that you are bored with whatever activity you are participating in and she will then undoubtedly look to _you_ for a conversation you are not prepared for."_

"…_All that from a cough?"_

"_Yes. So don't do it."_

It was just that moment I felt a buildup of phlegm along my Adam's apple.

I cursed En as thoughtfully as I could. It was the middle of the cold season, and he expected me not to clear my damn throat? I felt my throat tighten and produce more phlegm as my face reddened. Still, I didn't clear my throat.

_Damn you En!_

(Tomoe)

I wondered why his face was so red. He couldn't have been blushing… could he? He was never very nervous around me. We were always very natural around each other, as natural as I can be. Was it because of the proposal?

I gently touched his hand. "Is something the matter Kiyosato-sama?"

He stared at me as if I were the most frightening thing he'd ever seen. I pulled my lips into a subtle frown, something only he could detect. He quickly shook his head.

What was wrong with him?

(Akira)

Just a little one. Maybe she wouldn't notice. I swallowed as roughly as I could, which relieved the tension before multiplying it by an ungodly number. _Just a little one…_

And then the play started.

…

The play, as the brochure had read, was a tragedy of some sorts, involving a man gone off to war, leaving his wife and son behind. The war had gone on and on, and when the husband finally returned home, he found two statues in the shape of a woman and infant. His wife and son had turned to stone waiting for him.

Or at least, that was what the brochure said. Not that _I_ was paying attention. Oh, no. _I_ was busy trying to figure out what would be the best time to sneak in a cough.

I glanced over at Tomoe, hoping she would be too engrossed in the play to notice one callous, crude, disgusting action from the man hoping to become her husband. Instead, her normally politely interested eyes seemed to strain to stay open.

She was bored. The timeless, beautiful, tragic play was _boring_ her. _I_ was boring her!

Oh, just hit me over the head with a sword right now.

(Tomoe)

He looked so uncomfortable. I couldn't blame him. He was sitting next to _me_, after all, the only woman in the audience not struggling to hold herself together, and thus the attention of many glaring, teary-eyed glares. It was a tragic play, but I was too engrossed with the anticipation that when the play was over, I was to be a bride. Or at least, I hoped so.

The end of the play was approaching. The soldier began a tearful lament for his lost family and the horrors caused by war. Akira began coughing.

I turned to him worriedly. His eyes were as wide as the full moon, his hands covering his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the sound. The stage troupe continued, politely ignoring Akira's plight.

Cough cough 

I patted his back as gently and firmly as I could. How was it that his face was getting even redder? "Kiyosato-sama, would you care for some water?"

He shook his head. I doubted I could locate any in the first place. I rubbed his shoulders in a motion focusing my energy on my lower palm, a technique I used to soothe Enishi when he had a cold.

"The behavior of these lower class citizens is enough to make _me _start choking!" said a voice that clearly wanted to be heard. I turned my head to meet the eyes of a handsome young man in his crowd of lady friends. There was no doubt in my mind he wanted to show off, his male ego demanding he do so. Well, there was no need for him to use Akira to impress those giggling airheads. And what was wrong with coughing? It was the middle of the cold season!

I gave him my coldest, most emotionless glare, all knowing and uncaring. He shivered and looked away.

I turned my attention back to Akira, who had calmed down and was holding his head in shame and dejection. Now it was my turn to shake my head. I held my arms just open enough for him to take me into his. He sighed as he pressed his nose into my nape. "I hate plays."

He couldn't see my smile, could he?

(Akira)

Well, that was a disaster. But I must move onward!

We walked back to her home. The streets of Edo were quietly being engulfed by night. I knew in a distant part of the country, this time of day was the prime for the escalating war between the Shogun and the rebels. What were they called again? The Ishin Shishi? Well, no matter. War… Seems so far away. Love, comfort, and peace, was walking by my side, arm in arm.

We arrived, and I was surprised to see Enishi not waiting for Tomoe's return. Thankful, but surprised.

She hesitated before stepping forward and placing a hand on the gate.

"Wait." Now or never. Or maybe tomorrow. No. Mustn't think that. "Tomoe."

She turned around and placed her hands by her side, an expectant look in those deep eyes of hers. That little cat. She knew.

With that weight off my shoulders, I relaxed. She wasn't running, which had to be a good sign. I hoped. Shrugging on my boyish smile, I stepped forward and dipped my hand into my sleeve. Suddenly, or maybe not so suddenly, wishing I was a bit richer, a bit handsomer, a bit more of a catch, I pulled out a hairpin En had helped me pick out. Ah En, I hope your tastes are good enough for Tomoe.

"Yes, Kiyosato-sama?"

My hands were shaking, but I focused only on her. I think that only made things worse. I took a deep breath. "No need to drag things out," I murmured. "Yukishiro Tomoe… Joy of my life, night of my day…" Damn! The words sounded so much better when En was saying them! "Will you marry me?" I finished, taking the care to lower my tone on the last word.

I looked at her and saw nothing. I held out the pathetic hairpin in both hands and saw nothing. She placed her hands over mine.

Was that a blush? No, it couldn't be. No matter how I tried, I could never make Tomoe blush.

"Yes," she said, barely a whisper.

I smiled and drew her into my arms the second time that evening. It was a light embrace, nothing too personal, too invasive. A hug between childhood friends, not lovers. No, not lovers.

I savored it and let her go. I looked at her again, and I saw nothing.

Nothing.

(Tomoe)

He proposed to me. I accepted. We're going to be married. Is the world spinning as fast as I think it is?

I calmed myself down. If Akira could remain nonchalant, so could I.

What?

I studied the face of my fiancé (Was it right to refer to him that way now? I sound like a brainless chit.). He was smiling, but it wasn't the warm, caring smile I'd grown so fond of seeing.

Why wasn't he happy? We're to be married. _Married_. So why…?

Why?

(End)

Author's note:

And that's the end of chapter two. I'm _so_ sorry for the long wait! I know it's been months and months. But I did say I would update before New Year's, and here it is! I actually have a lot to say about this chapter, but I'll save that for you guys. I'll try to get the next update out soon.

Once again, I'm so sorry!

Author's Note: Since none of the format seems to be working, I had to actually write in the changes in POV. It's as uncomfortable for me as it is you.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The word should speak enough for itself, but as formalities go: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Chapter Three

----

En traced the lines of the stars while he sat on the front porch, waiting for his master's return. Murmuring the constellations' names aloud, he pondered about how Akira's evening had gone. _Things never go perfectly for him_, he mused. But no matter how disastrously the play had gone, he had no doubt Akira would return with a dopey smile on his face and an interesting story to listen to. _She has no reason to refuse._

The entrance gate slid open and his master walked down the beaten dirt path toward the main house. En waited calmly for him, trying to make sense of his expression, but the moon overhead, in its crescent shape, offered little light. He stood up and bowed lightly as Akira stood before him, his normally cheerful face downcast.

"Welcome back, Master. I trust you had an… eventful evening?"

A smile graced Akira's face before drowning in the sea of gloom exuding from him. En grit his teeth and bit out his words with precision. "I should hope things went as planned."

The grim smile reappeared as Akira stepped out of his tabi and into the house. "En, could you teach me how to drink?"

Two and a half jugs of sake later, Akira held his damp forehead in one hand and his cup in the other. En placed the latest empty jug into the cupboard to be reused for something else. "What was I expecting anyway? That she'd what…?"

"The reaches of your imagination are unfathomable," En responded. His vocabulary was still perfectly intact, unlike his intoxicated master.

"Maybe her eyes would widen or something. Or like… A kiss. Yeah, that's it: a kiss. Damn it En, I just realized. I've never been kissed before!" Akira flinched at the volume of his voice.

"Kisses will come in time," assured En. "Despite your closeness, it's only natural a _refined_ woman such as Yukishiro-sama will refrain from intimate contact." Akira only scoffed and dropped his head. "And besides, shouldn't you be the one doing the kissing?"

Akira looked up. "Why's that?"

"Well sir, I'd say she's never been kissed either."

Akira furrowed his brow. "That's true…" Akira tried to pursue this thought, but the alcohol convinced him that listening to En would be so much more informative.

"Yukishiro-sama is a woman of great honor. She has probably never had much other contact with men and doesn't know how to react accordingly to your needs, especially when you haven't made them obvious yourself," En pointed out.

"Honor, you say. Would she be different if she lost that honor?" Akira asked dazedly. "I wonder…"

En felt his temper spike and reflected that in his tone of voice. "

Akira nodded. "I'm not in my right mind."

"I can see that."

Akira intention was to glare at his grinning servant, but instead settled for another question. "Is a smile too much to ask from her, do you think?"

"You know the answer to that question."

"True, but it never hurts to get a second opinion."

En shook his head and helped his master up. "We'll see if you remember this conversation in the morning, and perhaps we'll have another drinking lesson."

----

Tomoe let out a sigh as she had a drink of her own. Things had gone just as she predicted. Was a smile too much to ask from her? At the silent question, she attempted to turn the corners of her lips, only managing to feel foolish. _What is there to smile about?_

Getting married, perhaps. But it would only be a matter of time before Akira tired of her. Boredom was the only thing associated with her type, the cold type. Foolish, wonderful Akira; he would attempt to woo and everyday would hope for a smile. She sensed that impossible hope when he made her the happiest woman in Japan. What did he expect from her? A smile, undoubtedly. And already, he was beginning to tire of her coldness.

What was it about her that attracted him? She was plain and boring in looks, cold and dispassionate in temperament, qualities suitable for perhaps a governess, but certainly not a wife. (It never mattered to her; marriage was never high on her list of priorities until she met Akira.) She never dared to ask him on the many times they were together, not wanting to spoil the amicable mood he was always in, not knowing what caused it. His friends believed she was a challenge to the male ego, that courting and seducing her would be a prize all on its own, but Akira always responded with an offended and somewhat puzzled look.

Akira was everything a woman like herself could hope for. He was wonderfully kind, wonderfully sweet, wonderful in every sense of the word, and respected her as not just a woman, but also a person. He wasn't overbearing, affectionate just enough. She wondered how affectionate he would be when they were married. Blushing, she pursued the thought with the back of her mind.

"Sister?"

Tomoe smothered her surprise deftly and lifted her head to meet her brother. "Enishi. What are you doing up so late?"

He stood in the doorway, hands at his side, and frowned at the liquor bottle. "I wanted to know how your even with Kiyosato-sama went."

Tomoe stood up and cleared the empty sake bottle. "It went… as predicted. Mostly, anyway."

She didn't need to turn to see her frown deepen. "So you're going to get married? Just like that?"

"Of course. He's an ideal man."

"Ideal? You call him ideal?" Enishi's voice ascended in pitch. "You could do so much better than that…that…"

"Enishi, that's enough. I'm sorry if you're upset, but Kiyosato-sama and I will get married, whether you like it or not."

Her younger brother stormed off in a huff, and she fervently hoped he wouldn't do anything rash. Sighing, she walked to her own room. Her beloved brother: she should have predicted his negative reaction to her engagement, but it didn't matter anyway. She wouldn't tolerate slander her fiancé's name. No matter what, she'd hold her head high, and insure her fiancé's was the same.

----

And that's the end of chapter three. Tell, tell, anything and everything you thought. I've much to improve on.

And I hope I've made this subtle and yet noticeable, so as a test, I'd love if a reader compared and contrasted Enishi's reaction to Tomoe's engagement to Akira against her marriage to Kenshin, and compare Tomoe's reactions to Enishi's reactions in both situations. It almost sounds like a language arts assignment…

And also notice how Akira seems to have self-esteem issues. Certainly not too heavy, but they're there. Agree or disagree on that? Tomoe by the way doesn't seem to have any. Agree or disagree?


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

---

Chapter Four

----

February 14th, First Year of Genji.

"Married" is such a lovely word when I can apply it to myself. Before this day, it was only a dream. Now I can proudly proclaim that I, Kiyosato Tomoe, am _married_.

It's such an odd feeling, pride. I consider pride unneeded next to happiness, something Kiyosato Akira-sama has always given me, yet this feeling of invincibility is almost addictive. I don't know much of what justifies pride, but certainly my lifelong happiness with Akira-sama does.

The wedding ceremony was traditional. That is the perfect word to describe it. It wasn't quite boring, as things seem only boring if one is bored, which I certainly wasn't, but it wasn't quite interesting either, as I was impatient for it to end. The kimono was heavy, but I endured. The names of the gods were familiar, but I paid little attention. The sky was dotted with fleecy clouds, but other wise the perfect weather. The sake was the sweetest I have ever tasted.

And above all else, I have never seen Akira-sama happier. The entire time, he was trying to conceal his smile. I should have matched his expression, but besides the thick makeup obscuring my face, my emotion went into my heart instead of my lips.

Another word to describe my wedding would be small. Only Father, Enishi, En, and a few other acquaintances were present. Akira's father was tending his time-consuming lands, I suppose, though I am partially glad I don't have the pressure of a mother and father-in-law over my head. I wonder how long that will last. Father was as jovial as one could be at a Shinto shrine. Enishi was even more sullen than usual. The size was quite convenient though, as neither Father nor Akira had the money for a large-scale wedding.

The few days before the wedding have been too busy for me to write, though they can be summarized as admonishing sessions for Enishi. Perhaps I was too harsh on him, but after a few jabs about Akira-sama's experience, in women and such audacious matters, I told him I wouldn't hear any of it. He responded that I'd been ignoring him lately, which may have been true. I had a wedding to plan, which Enishi was firmly against. He went on to say that I wouldn't have time with him at all after I married, and that we wouldn't even live in the same house.

That worried me, of course. I tried to explain to him that he would always be a part of my life, but he stormed off and stayed in a silent fit with me until today. After the wedding, he went up to Akira-sama and monotonously congratulated him. Akira-sama blushed from getting the attention of the dragon that guards his bride. My heart warmed at the sight.

Akira-sama's servant introduced himself to me as En, out of courtesy's sake as we met on multiple times before, though never formally introduced, and as my father distracted my husband, he whisked me to a secluded spot in the shade of pomegranate trees. He surprised me with his direct manner, promptly addressing my relationship with Akira-sama. Though I have little experience with servant, I don't think marital relations are topics of discussion between servant and mistress.

He spoke to me in a rather annoyed and rushed manner, as if he'd been waiting to speak to me for days but I had repeatedly put him off. His demeanor toward me is indescribable. His hair was tied in the typical topknot, his eyes had bags under them yet he showed no sign of fatigue, and his posture was impeccable, as was his pronunciation. He was altogether very businesslike, but his tone was not. It nonchalant and almost friendly, seeming as though al of it was by habit. He had a handsome face, with non-nonsense eyes lacking the laugh lines my father had, and an eternally straight mouth. He almost reminded me of me.

I'm avoiding what he actually said to me because it is difficult for me to even comprehend, much less record. It was as though he didn't quite prepare for what he was about to say either, for he rambled a bit, which was odd, judging from his appearance. He first talked about me. He said he respects me and even admires me at times. I was able to guard my emotions, a useful tool for dealing with not-yet-friends and already-enemies, something Akira-sama did not have. I told him that I did not see my emotionless state as a tool. It was more like unending rain. I could never turn it off, so it was a broken tool, doing more harm than good.

He nodded, as if expecting my reply. He then talked about Akira-sama. He told me Akira-sama was wonderfully kind, a tool perhaps even more useful than mine. He told me of how he met Akira-sama as a child. Then he said something I didn't know: he loved Akira-sama like a brother. As I realized this was why En was so comfortable addressing his master's private life, he continued and told me about the sake.

It was shocking to say the least. He raised an eyebrow at me while I observed the news. "Your mask has fallen," he said. It took me a few seconds to understand he was talking about my face, but I didn't care. I was just told that I had driven the love of my life to drinking himself into oblivion. How did he think I was to react?

"Which brings me to my point," he continued after I had a hold on myself again. He made it clear that I was not to make the same mistake on my wedding day. "If your engagement had that much of an effect on him," he said, "Your wedding shall surely bring him to suicide or worse." He said all of that in the same casual voice.

And he was completely and utterly serious.

I had never been in a horse-drawn carriage before, but I was too distracted by Akira to pay attention to anything around me. I wonder if the horse was going that quickly on purpose. I counted the seconds I had to communicate somehow to Akira that I was indeed happy to be his wife. A kiss? A hug? A smile was simplest. All I had to do was turn my head and curve my lips.

But what good was a smile now? How ironic that because En told me to smile, he had so carelessly left so much pressure on me, there was no way I could. The streets were rolling by, and I knew I was close to practically killing my husband.

And then Akira-sama saved his own life.

He simply placed my hand in his. I met his eyes and for a few seconds, I was lost in dismay. Looking back, I see I'm a complete idiot. But after those few seconds of floundering passed, I squeezed his hand, tightly, desperately, and as lovingly as a hand squeeze could be. I prayed to those same gods that watched over my ceremony whose names were familiar but lost that he would understand, somehow.

They must have been listening, because after that, he broke into the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.

And then Akira-sama said to me, his first words to me as a husband, "I'm so proud to have you as a wife."

And I smiled.

---

AN: Apologies to Ishimaru Amon, my faithful reader. I hope you haven't given up on this fic of mine yet. As a sorry excuse for my late update, I'm not sure quite what to write. It's a pet peeve of mine when authors poll their readers on what they want to see, so I'd be a hypocrite if I asked you all what you want to read next. So I won't! Another thing is that I'm not altogether sure of how in character our two leads are. And there are a lot of technical things I don't really want to explore. For example, the date of this entry in Tomoe's diary is based on the date she wrote about Akira's murder, which was April 4th. If anyone has a concrete date, I'd love to hear it. Also, Tomoe's addressing Akira as "Akira-sama" was based on the same entry. She called him "Kiyosato Akira-sama," which seemed like a mouthful to me, but if anyone thinks I should change it, feel free to tell me. As a final note, I made this chapter a diary entry because though I skimmed the surface of Japanese weddings, the most of what I got is that they're expensive, a bit uncommon, whatever is in this chapter, and I had very little information on weddings during the Tokugawa Shogunate. Thus, I didn't feel very comfortable about writing about weddings in very much detail. I'm a cheater, I know. Once again, I'm so very sorry about this late update.

Your reviews are greatly appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Chapter Five

Akira's brother and father did not attend the marriage. They did not send gifts or money. They did not receive the invitation.

The invitation was sent to the right address. As the older brother, Kiyosato Endo lived in the family estate, with his father. But Rendo wasn't there to receive the letter asking for his presence in his brother's funeral. Rendo was in Kyoto, against his will. Akira's father wasn't in the world of the living, though neither of the Kiyosato brothers was aware of this.

Rendo always did bitterly resent the Revolution; not because he was opposed to the patriots' ideals, but rather because he detested the thought of being called into action by the oath he'd sworn to his lord. He wasn't a warrior: he prided himself as a man of wisdom, philosophy, and one higher than that of the barbarous men that reveled in the bloody battle fields. He loved to expound on his military view points at the dinner table, listing all of the many ways the Shogun could easily quell the uprising if only he had brains like Rendo's. His wife and children listened with one ear.

In the back of his mind, Rendo feared the coming of a messenger calling him to war. That, more than anything, was his motivation to push his land's production so that he had the funds to pay even more taxes than necessary. He was slightly discouraged when he was called into duty despite his tax payments, but the thought of war was more frightening than a life of poverty. He fled the city the day of receiving the news.

Of course, he wasn't much of a horseman either. He was soon caught and jailed. He hoped that he could die in the prison, rather than upon a blade. He made his views clear when he was placed in front of his lord.

"Why are you cowering? What is it you fear? Serve, and preserve what little honor you have left. Think of your father, your wife, and your children. They shall all perish if you do not do your duty."

"I'm no swordsman. If I serve, I'll die. There is no doubt in my mind. I would rather die a miserable wretch in a prison than in the battlefield, where I will die of infection from a wound, or blood loss, or a painful rupture of an organ. I would rather die in a prison, where my body will at least be put below ground, rather than on the battle field, where corpses are left to fester and disease mingles."

"You are exaggerating," his lord replied deftly. "You will serve among fellow samurai, who are more honorable than you. We do not leave our dead without a proper burial. We aren't fools."

"Why me?" he wailed. "I choose not to serve. I choose to be put to death rather than serve. Why do you want a coward like me, a weakling and a fool, when there are other, more capable men?"

"Do you know of any?" Rendo looked up in surprise and hope. "I'm afraid we are losing this war. We need as many capable men as possible. Our need is so great," he said bitterly, "That I must waste my time trying a maggot like you. Do you know of any man that might take your place?"

Rendo was tempted, tempted sorely with the chance of escaping war. But he loved his brother, and would not abandon him. "No. Put me to death. That is my right!"

"You have no right to speak of," snapped the lord. "Don't waste more of my time that you already have. Look here." He lowered himself just slightly. "I want you to picture your father, your wife, and your children. Do you love them? Do you care for them? As we speak, your loved ones are in here, with us."

Rendo jolted. "No! Please, spare them. They are your subjects as well! They have served you and honored you, my lord, and tended your lands."

"Now I am your lord? And have they served me as _well_," he sneered, " As you have? No, they will have no mercy, for they are the family of a traitor and coward. I will ask you again: do you know of any, _capable_ man to take your place?"

Then Rendo did what he told himself not to. He thought of children, his wife, and his father. He saw the despicable prison cell that he saw as a fitting place of death for him, bit in no way a place for his children, wife, and father.

"Or perhaps I should ask you for two men, as your honorable father was also called into war, but I'm afraid his old heart failed him. No, just one man. I wouldn't want to be too cruel."

Rendo couldn't answer. Instead, he thought of Akira. When they were young, he and Akira liked to explore the busy city of Edo. He was the older one, the protector, but Akira was always the muscle and he was always the brain. Akira was never much of a muscle, but Rendo always made for it with his brain.

Akira was always fascinated with one girl, Tomoe. Tomoe was beautiful in a quiet, serene way. Her manners were more reserved than the norm for a girl her age, and Akira, stupid, brash Akira, was drawn to her. They became quite close, and there were times Rendo became annoyed with the girl that was always stealing his brother away.

Akira never forgot him, though. He consulted Rendo for help to woo the girl, even at a young age. Rendo wasn't interested in girls at the time, but detected patterns he relayed to his younger brother. "Flowers," he'd told Akira. "Flowers and jewelry and sweets. And always tell them how nice they look." These were methods he'd used to woo his own wife, but they never seemed to work very well with Tomoe. Instead of blushing prettily as a girl should, Tomoe simply thanked Akira and the gifts were never to be seen again.

Rendo wondered if Akira ever made progress with that girl. The two separated as they reached adulthood. As the elder, Rendo attended the estate. Akira was left with a tidy next egg to fend for himself. Rendo rarely contacted Akira again.

Rendo's wife was a perfect wife. She cooked, managed the servants well, was obedient, and her intelligence only added to his. Their children were perfect as well. The older daughter was cultured and beautiful, and as intelligent as her mother and father. The younger son was of a warrior's mindset with a heart larger than his brain.

"Well?"

He prayed to his father to forgive him, and then relayed the same wish to his brother, all the way in Edo. "Yes, there is one man."

Author's note: I suck. Any excuses suck. Nevertheless, I will offer them.

I'm in my first year of high school. I'm losing my Rurouni Kenshin edge. I'm losing precious sleeping hours.

With that aside, notice that Akira and Tomoe don't appear in this chapter. Darn, but they'll be in the next one. Whenever the hell that's going to get out. Also, Rendo is another OC. I'm not too pleased with all of these original characters, but I don't know if I should insert other characters in here. Nah, probably not. Maybe Hiko. Or not.

Reviews and criticisms are great.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Chapter Six

The married life isn't as drastic a change as she thought it would be. She moves in with him, but she's been there so often it's not much of a change. They talk and she cooks, and En feels like an intruder in his own home during their intimate moments. But it's always been like that.

He talks of finding a job. He wants to earn a living, he says, for his wife and children. She understands. She doesn't ask him about the funds he has tucked away. Though they are slight, they are enough to support an economic living. Instead, she suggests something small. These are difficult times, she reasons, and jobs are scarce. Safe jobs are even scarcer. En directs his attention to an opening at a local diner, as a waiter. It's a simple job, close-by, and can be abandoned readily if need be. Akira agrees.

The first week goes by and a happy Akira receives his wages. Measly, certainly not enough to support a household of three, but Tomoe knows it isn't wages he's after.

Each day, Akira comes home and reads the newspaper aloud at the dinner table. He talks about interesting bits of local news and touches upon the propaganda, but he is at his most aware when reading the names of the identified fallen warriors. There aren't very many names: only the important nobles are mentioned. Tomoe and En are aware of the neighbors around them that are losing their loved ones by the day. Akira isn't just aware; he's counting. He counts each name that comes up in the newspaper and each name being mourned in their vicinity.

En knows something is wrong, but only Tomoe knows exactly what. At night, when they are alone in their bed, he holds her and tells her he loves her; then they pretend to sleep. But really, Akira is awake, and he whispers the number, and then stirs for a moment before finally sleeping. Tomoe listens and fears what she predicts to come next.

The days go by. More and more jobs become available as the employees leave to war or to a more peaceful area. Akira becomes very busy; he takes as many jobs as he can, does anything to be useful. He leaves earlier and comes home later. The money he's making becomes substantial: enough to buy Tomoe that hair pin she'd been eyeing, that book Enishi hinted at, that pair of shoes En desperately needed. As his income grows, so does the death toll.

"Have you heard about Narita-san? Her husband was killed recently in the war; she received the news yesterday," he tells her at the table one night.

She sips her tea. "Yes, I did hear. It looks like the roads aren't safe for even merchants now, thanks to the patriots."

"Now she's left alone with his son and daughter. I think she's looking for a job now." He caught her eye now.

She nodded. "I'm sure they could use a little help."

Later that night, he asks her, "Tomoe, are you happy?"

She waits a beat and puts a hand to his cheek before answering. "Yes."

He believes her. "I am as well." He says nothing for a few moments, and just looks at her. There's something about his eyes. They're unsettled, guilty. "What am I, Tomoe, that I deserve this? How am I different from Narita-san, without her husband, or Takemoto-san, without his son, or Okada-kun, lost in war? Why are they suffering while I'm like this?"

"Like what?" she asks.

"Happy." Then he pulls her in closer, as if he's afraid, afraid of losing the one thing he feels guilty about.

"I don't know. But happiness is rare, no matter what time or place, so let's not curse ours." She kisses him and he forgets his troubles for the time being.

The wrinkles in his forehead become a common sight. "What's wrong this time?" she asks.

"I sent a letter to Father a month ago. He hasn't replied. I did the same to Rendo. He's usually so punctual, too." He sits down and skims through the newspaper. "But, times like these change a man…"

En arranges the food and sets it beside Akira, who nods his thanks. The main course is fish, En notices wryly. "Is there anything interesting?"

"Construction on the bridge has all but ceased… Talks of a draft are circulating… Practically half of the young men of a town have run away to join the revolutionaries… opium problems among government officials…"

Tomoe joins the two. "Such news darkens the mood, dear. Eat, while you still have your appetite. You too, En."

Akira flips the paper before putting it down, heeding his wife. Before the paper hits the floor however, something catches his eye. He freezes.

"Master? What's wrong?"

He picks the paper up again, and begins to read.

"The honorable Kiyosato Kodoma, age 67, served and fought bravely for his lord, inspiring comrade, unwavering faith in his cause, Japan, and the Shogun. Succeeded by his son, Kiyosato Rendo."

The air chills.

En and Tomoe startle, but the latter regains her composure instantly. She gently takes the newspaper from her husband's hands and places chopsticks in its stead. She eats.

En wonders if she's an idiot. He anxiously watches Akira's face, which is slowly losing its color.

"Why haven't I heard? His body tenses but his voice is deathly calm. "Does he think I'm a fool?"

"Master…"

"He was always like that. Doesn't he realize, now that Father is dead, he must wield a sword in our name?"

Tomoe puts down her chopsticks.

"We leave tomorrow for my family's estate."

"Ridiculous." Akira shifts his attention to his wife. "Use your head in this, dear. Even if we find the means to fund our trip, what shall we find when we arrive? Your brother? I remember Rendo-sama, when we were children. I remember his kendo lessons, as well. You were never particularly adept with a sword, dear. But at least you could hold one."

Akira flinches. "He wouldn't… do anything drastic. He's too smart for that."

"Smart, intelligent, and clever, but without sense," she says, a hint of acid in her voice. "We need not go to the lion's den when the lion is hunting us. Now eat."

She stands to retire to her bed and leaves a train of silence in her wake. She is asleep when Akira joins her.

Author's note: I really hope Tomoe wasn't OOC. And I keep switching tenses.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

* * *

Chapter 7

* * *

Rendo always took pride in his penmanship. It was the pride of his childhood when all the other boys were practicing how to kill men twice their size with a sword. They'd tease him and taunt him about his lack of skill, maybe even cut him up a bit if they were brave. He'd endure all of it silently. When he came home and his father asked him about the bandages, he'd say a bandit attacked him.

Then Akira picked up a sword. He was no genius, but he didn't need to be. The boys could easily tell who was the better of the two brothers, and didn't overlook that Akira was three years his junior. Akira didn't know. He was being a little boy, and like all little boys, he wanted to belong. So when the other boys were beating up his brother, Akira practiced far, far away.

One day, after Rendo came home with his new clothes bloodied, their father beat Akira. Kodoma demanded to know why Akira didn't help his brother fight the bandits. Akira, now also bloody and crying, asked, what bandits?

And then their father beat Rendo, too.

That night, Akira crept to his brother's bed and whispered that he was sorry for telling Rendo's secret. Rendo pretended to be asleep.

Now it is Rendo's turn to say sorry, as his beautiful penmanship writes a letter to his brother with a sword pressed against his throat.

* * *

_Dear Younger Brother,_

_I am sorry for not informing you earlier of the death of our dearest father. The funeral arrangements were complicated and tedious, and I didn't wish to burden you with them. A great tragedy has befallen our family, but do not wallow in sorrow, for there are still many things to be happy for. I hope that you have found happiness and that you will someday win the heart of the woman whom you hold dear._

_Marriage brings many joys and responsibilities, the first and foremost being children. Your children will be the reason for your existence, the light of your day, the pride of your life. You will gladly give your life and many others to preserve your children's well being._

_Nothing gladdens me more than to see the smile of my son, Seiji. Nothing saddens me more than to think of Seiji having to take up a sword and ride to his death. If I could, I would take that sword from him and plunge it into my own heart, if that would save him from what our Lord now orders him to do._

_I have never loved my sword hand. Our Lord knows that. Now that our father is dead, our Lord summons another to take his stead. But not I. He summons Seiji. He is but thirteen this spring, but the Lord claims that such any age is enough to protect our Shogun. _

_But he is too young! I worry for his heart. Death was common when we were children, but shall I allow my son to suffer the horrors of war? Let my soul bear that, not him._

_But I am a coward, a weakling. The Lord does not want me. _

_The Lord is generous. He offers me enough money for our family to live in comfort for the next millennia. But I will not sell my son for any amount. Everyday, he increases the amount, hoping to tempt me, but I will not relent. I beg him to take me instead, so that I may defend our Lord in our family's name._

_But the Lord does not want me._

_Please, Akira. Help me._

_Kiyosato Rendo_

_

* * *

  
_

Eight days later, Tomoe is visiting Narita-san. Akira is working at his job. En is reading the mail.

It feels dishonest to whisper in the night to En while Akira is sleeping, but Tomoe brushes away the guilt. En doesn't mind at all and continues muttering under his breath while he rereads the letter. The dim light of the lantern illuminates the letter so that the phrase "_enough money for our family to live in comfort for the next millennia_" appears particularly clear to her. She wants to rip the letter in two.

"Tomoe-sama?"

"Yes, En?"

"Can you tell if he's lying?" he whispers with urgency. "About Seiji-kun, I mean."

"Rendo-sama's love for his son is real. I can't imagine him lying about Seiji-kun's well being. But at the same time, I've never heard of a thirteen-year-old being called to serve."

"They are getting desperate."

"But desperate enough to recruit a child? I can't believe it. Rendo-sama also seems unaware that Akira-sama and I have married. Why can he send letters but not read any?"

The lantern flickers.

"Do you think he's under duress?"

"It would explain so many things."

"Then there is some truth to his words. He is in danger."

Tomoe doesn't answer. She wonders if she should burn the letter instead of tearing it. "Then he will die."

"Tomoe-sama?"

"He thinks to sacrifice Akira-sama in his stead. He is a fool. Akira-sama will never read this letter." She seizes the letter and lifts the lantern to reveal the candle. En grabs her wrist.

"What are you thinking? Akira-sama must know."

"If Akira finds out, he will ride to Kyoto without a second thought and then die in a war that is already lost. I would rather lie to him and have him hate me."

"You might, but I do not. If Akira-sama finds out that he could have saved his brother and didn't, he'll blame himself for the rest of his life."

They stare at each other, an unstoppable force and an unmovable object. They don't notice Akira slide open the door.

"En. Take your hands off of her."

Upon hearing his voice, the two breathe. En releases Tomoe quickly. Tomoe feels guilt coloring her cheeks.

"Akira-sama." She says his name because she can't think of anything else. The letter is still in her hands.

"Tomoe. What is that?"

She stands and gives the letter to him. She waits, and time waits with her. Finally, he looks up and their eyes meet. "Were you going to hide this from me?"

"Yes." She refuses to allow his betrayed expression change her mind. "Don't go."

"How can you ask that of me? Rendo needs me."

"Rendo is a dog who would run from a war and send his little brother to fight for him."

"He is still my brother! What if he dies, Tomoe, and I could have saved him?"

She is losing this fight. She senses that he is already planning his trip to Kyoto, already packing his clothes and sword. "What if you die?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"Tomoe!" He is exasperated. "You ask me to choose between happiness and my brother's life. If forced to choose, I must choose life."

"Yes, Akira. I'm asking you to choose life." She clutches her stomach. He doesn't notice.

He shook his head. "Tomorrow. I leave tomorrow."

Her vision blurs. She barely feels his kiss.

The candle burns brightest before it goes out.

* * *

AN: I tend to write more dialogue than description. Is that annoying?


	8. Chapter 8

Akira made sure to leave at night, when everyone else was sleeping. He packed few things: clothes, sword, letter, and comb. When he left, the moon was low and his wife deathly still. He left a note at the door, feeling like a coward yet having honor as his motive.

_Dear Tomoe,_

_I have made my decision. Forgive me for leaving you so suddenly. I have left funds to supply you while I am gone. I assure you, I will return. Until then, live knowing you have an honorable husband who loves you. _

_Sincerely yours, Kiyosato Akira_

The road was long until the nearest outpost. Akira prepared himself for a sleepless night and set out.

He passed by the market, now eerily empty and quiet without its vendors and stands. Next came the exposed riverbank, where no vegetation blocked the way to the water. At last he saw the wild groves, and he knew he was close to his destination.

Akira paused and chose to rest at the trunk of a white plum tree. He smiled, abashed, at the sickening sentiment. The tree's branches were heavy with fruit but were too high for him to pick. After a few failed tries, he gave up and continued his walk to the outpost.

The guard looked more sleepy than menacing when he demanded Akira's identification. Akira offered his letter for proof and received a horse in exchange. Knowing that he had never ridden a horse before, he prayed that this time would not be his first and last. He mounted it and tried to guide it down the path, managing to coax it into a slow walk.

The horse also seemed as if it would rather be sleeping that traveling at the moment and stopped occasionally. Akira had to kick the creature to get it to move. The had moved barely out of the city when the beast stopped completely, and no amount of kicking would start it again, not that Akira was willing to kick it very hard. He sighed and dismounted.

"What am I going to do? At this rate, the war will be over by the time I get to Kyoto."

"Maybe you're right."

Akira whirled around and instinctively put his hand at his hilt, wondering what good that would do. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that only En had appeared from behind him. "How did you catch up to me?"

"Your horse is very lazy, and, with all due respect, Master, you are not a very good rider." En walked over to him and offered a rice ball, which Akira accepted gratefully.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

Akira took a breath and began to eat. He could tell that En had made the rice ball. There was something distinctive about his cooking that differentiated it from Tomoe's. Although it was not necessarily better than hers, Akira knew Tomoe slightly envied En, as much as she appreciated him. Akira tried to convince her that it allowed her more leisure time, and she certainly enjoyed that, but whenever they went over the monthly finances, she wondered if having both a wife and a servant was too much for them. Now there would be wife and servant only, thought Akira, and that should help things.

"I don't know how you knew I would be here, but you should return soon. Tomoe will worry if both of us are gone," said Akira after he took a bite. En helped him take off his sword, which was beginning to weigh him down.

"Don't you mean, after she reads this?" En took out the same letter Akira had written earlier out of the folds of his hakama. He glanced over it. "You didn't even mention me, Master."

Akira blushed. "I didn't expect you to be the one to find it. Tomoe usually wakes up first. This is certainly early for you to be up."

En handed him another, and Akira began to suspect that En was trying to delay him. Nonetheless, he took a bite. "Mistress Tomoe has been keeping late hours these past days, most likely to keep you from leaving. I suppose her exhaustion finally caught up to her tonight."

Guilt surged through Akira, and he tried to force it down along with the rice. "Has she? Well, she'll sleep better now. Make a good breakfast for her, will you?"

"I don't intend on returning," said En, and he walked over to Akira's horse and mounted it.

Akira started after him, but En seized the reins and reared the horse. "En! What are you doing?"

En also struggled to control the horse. Instead of walking or trotting in a straight line, the horse was running in a circle, trying to bite En's knee. Akira grabbed hold of reins and helped calm it down, soon after which En once again took the reins.

"My duty, Master. I have your sword and your horse. That is all the identification I need."

"You don't know how to use either! You're a servant, and they will know that instantly once they see you."

En looked at Akira coolly. "You're not much better off, Akira."

Akira flinched at such casual use of his name. "Disrespect. Disobedience! Is this what I receive for taking you in?"

"You receive my life."

"You are taking it from me!"

"They won't find out. Your brother won't care, and neither will the shogunate. And we look similar." En smiled, and for a moment, Akira saw a mirror of himself: warm brown eyes, dull black hair, pale skin, and thin lips. Then the image disappeared, replaced with a young face with old, tired eyes.

"I can never return to my home like this. If I let another take my place, I will be just like my brother. And I can't afford to lose you."

En made a show of rolling his eyes, and Akira flared. "Go home. To your love. And to your child."

Akira's breath caught in his throat, and he hesitated. Kicking the horse, En dashed away, armed with sword and prepared for death.


End file.
